


we'll keep dancing ('til we die)

by DreamDeferred



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Prom, some bydia, some scallison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 20:59:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamDeferred/pseuds/DreamDeferred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pack made it to prom. Barely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we'll keep dancing ('til we die)

It was generally agreed upon by everyone in Beacon Hills High that _those_ kids were definitely the weird ones, but it was best not to talk about it.

Tonight they really took the cake when they rolled up to prom late, looking like shit.

Allison Argent and Lydia Martin looked like they might have looked gorgeous at one point, their hair carefully curled and their long satiny dresses shimmering in the strobe lights pulsing through the darkened hall. Instead, their hair looked like haystacks, the curls drooped and so many flyaways that they might as well have never done their hair in the first place. Allison’s sleek, floor length dress looked deliberately torn up to the knee on both sides, like she was trying to make her prom dress look edgy and only succeeded in making it look trashy. She had discarded her shoes almost as soon as she had stepped into the hall, the heels broken on each anyway. Lydia Martin, once queen bee of Beacon Hills, looked no better. If anyone hadn't known better, they would have said that it looked like the train of her dress had claws dug into it, torn and frayed all the way to the end. There were leaves snarled into her hair, and all of Beacon Hills hoped she wasn't going for some hippy vibe. There was a discolored bruise forming on her jaw, blossoming upwards towards her cheekbone, dark, and impossible to cover up.

It would seem that the boys of their rag tag group were no better. Everybody was covered head to toe in dirt and mud. Stiles Stilinski looked like he had face planted into a ditch, his long sleeved button down shirt a pristine white on the back-ignoring a few specks of what looked suspiciously like blood-and covered in mud on the front. His face was multiple shades darker than it usually was where it seems he had wiped mud off his face, then probably thought it was funny to take the excess mud and paint war stripes under his eyes. And if Stiles looked bad, Scott McCall, Isaac Lahey, and Vernon Boyd were catastrophic. Scott and Isaac’s hair was plastered to their heads and foreheads, Isaac’s usually blonde hair turned as dark as Scott’s. They might as well have rolled around on the lacrosse field after it rained earlier that day. Boyd’s vest seemed to have once been pink to match Lydia’s dress, however, that was only visible in some spots, and was clashing terribly with the rustic dried blood mixing with it. Scott’s shirt was in tatters, hanging in frays on his arms, and haphazardly tucked into his dress pants.

Despite all of this, they seemed overjoyed. People on the fringes stared in shock as they elbowed their way into the heart of the dance floor, heedless of whether they were getting other people’s prom clothes dirty. The students made room for them, taking hesitant steps away from them as they started to dance like there was absolutely nothing wrong.

They started jumping around, smiling through the dirt and grime over them like they were celebrating something. Like prom was some kind of blessing, and it meant so much more to them than anyone else in attendance. They threw their heads back and screamed out every word to the Top 40, danced like they wouldn't get the chance again, and clung to each other like they were afraid they were going somewhere.

And the students of Beacon Hills still didn't get why these kids were friends with each other. There was no reason for Lydia to be talking to Boyd, and yet, she was at prom with him. Allison and Scott should have never even been together. A couple years ago, nobody would have guessed that Scott and Stiles would invite Isaac into their super-special-best-friendhood. But the way they all threw their arms around each other and couldn't wipe the smiles off their faces, like what they were experiencing was nothing short of euphoric, it didn't seem to matter to them that they were each a piece from a different puzzle. Because they fit regardless, and they made it to senior prom, beaten and bloodied and bruised, but alive.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at sleepingwithsolas!


End file.
